Moulin Bleu
by Deej1
Summary: Set after the movie, Estella tried to convince Christian to help her restore the Moulin Rouge. *unfinished*
1. Introductions

Disclaimer: 

Disclaimer: 

The Moulin Rouge, its story, and the characters Christian, Toulouse, Satine and the Unconscious Argentinian do not belong to me, they belong to Baz Luhrmann. 

Each of the songs used will be acknowledged in each individual story part posted with the artist (of the version I'VE heard). 

Rating: PG 

Authors notes:Some symbols are used for song:Anyone else singing (name of person){Estella sings}[Christian sings]{ or [ or {[ or {[ - several singing the same words, the ones further outwards are the focus.(changeover) - indicates the move from one song to the next when there is several songs combined. 

Any further notes - see individual story segments. 

PART 1 

Introduction 

Songs Used: Arabian Pleasure by Mario Piu & Mauro Picotto. (***Writers note; this song doesn't have so much words as music, and the words it does have other than those just mentioned are either nonsense singing words or another language hence a difficulty in writing them and this segment. I did my best ï 


	2. Partnership Attempt

Disclaimer: The Moulin Rouge, its story, and the characters Christian, Toulouse and Satine do not belong to me, they belong to Baz Luhrmann. The song Music is by Madonna and if you don't know who sang the Elephant Love Medley, then you don't deserve to be here! You'll notice I altered a word or two in Music.

Summary part 2: Marcus and one of Estella's dancer manage to pursuade Christian to speak to Estella, however then Estella is shocked to learn the writer no longer expresses such an enthusiasm for the idea of 'love', and is presented with the problem of convincing him to help direct his his story to be performed at the reopening of the Moulin Rouge. 

Authors notes: See, the Mary Sue alert in my story become startling obvious in this part. Lol. Sorry to those who dislike it. Sorry also for my terrible dissection of one of my favourite songs in the movie. Yes, I'm a terrible, terrible person! Shame on me! *turns head away ashamedly* The main reason this part took so long to be put up is because I was incredibly dissatisfied with that second half, I edited, and edited, then considered rewriting, edited, then considered dumping the whole thing. However my stupid attachment to what I'd written, and the work I'd put into it by this time, made me keep it. *Shrugs* At least I haven't defiled Come What May….. yet….. mwoooarhahahhahahahahahahahahaha (joking). 

Some symbols are used for song: 

Anyone else singing (name of person) 

{Estella sings} 

[Christian sings] 

{ or [ or {[ or {[ - several singing the same words, the ones further outwards are the focus. 

(changeover) - indicates the move from one song to the next when there is several songs combined. 

Part 2

Partnership Attempt

Christian sighed and moved away from the window to sit back at his typewriter again, the music of the Moulin Rouge dying in his ears. He typed a few more words, but his heart wasn't in it. He felt as though every last cent of his energy had gone into writing the Moulin Rouge a year earlier, and now he was only living in a hazy nightmare of black lurking shadows. Every time he thought he might have found a glimpse of the sun, the storm clouds moved back across it. 

Suddenly there was a knock at his door. When he looked up in surprise, not answering the visitor, it came again but this time in a lopsided rhythm beat. 

This time he moved slowly to turn the doorknob and pull open the door just as the man outside was rising his hand to knock again. The elderly man stopped, mildly shocked, them smiled in a friendly way at Christian. A petite showgirl was clinging to his right arm. Christian couldn't even manage the questioning intrigued look the stranger's visit required, but simply stared out at the man dumbfoundedly. 

"Ah," the grayed man said a little nervously and lifted his hat, "evening Sir. Would you indeed be the most esteemed writer of the novel Moulin Rouge?" The showgirl gave Christian a flirtatious look and batted her eyelashes. Christian simply blinked. 

"Yes," he told the stranger neutrally, not moving to let either in. 

"Ah," the fellow repeated, and seemed to press further into the doorway, even though he never moved except to pat the arm of the woman gently, "The most venerable Lady Estella begs your attendance to discuss a significant business opportunity." 

When Christian didn't answer, the man continued on regardless, "The Lady Estella; she recently purchased the building across the street. I believe you know it – it is the Moulin Rouge, after all. She said you should come, asked me to come and get you. Nicely, of course." 

Christian opened the door wider here, to reveal the room beyond, but moved back inside it and sat back down at his typewriter, turning his back on the visitors. 

"Tell her," he told the pair, who leaned in excitedly, "I'm sorry." The two visitors snapped back into position in disappointment. 

"But Sir," Julian protested in a worried tone, then brightened, "she said there was music!" At this Christian turned, then hesitated. The idea of music was mildly intriguing, yet somehow an odd thing to point out. 

"Music?" he asked. Yes, it was a strange thing to say. There had always been music at the Moulin Rouge. Why would this woman think the statement would influence him in any way? 

"Well, yes, music!" Julian explained excitedly, feeling now that he might be closer to victory, "Music makes the people come together!" The showgirl clutched Julian more tightly than before and Christian looked slightly dazed. 

"Music makes the bourgeoisie and the rebel," Julian encouraged, patting the showgirl's hand gently. Then he pushed the door open fully and stepped through uninvited, bringing the woman with him. 

The woman immediately swept into the room as though she owned it, moving towards the window and lifting the pane to let in the outside air. For a moment Christian thought he could actually hear the music these two were so intent on. Gradually it got louder, until he was certain. 

Turning slowly back to the room, the woman suddenly began to sing Hey Miss Estella, put the music on, I wanna dance with my baby, and when the music starts, I never wanna stop, it's gonna drive me crazy. Christian pulled back startled. The woman began to step forward slowly towards him as he stared on in amazement. 

Music the male stranger sang in a low voice to Christian's right, and he turned suddenly to look at the man, who began to repeat it over, Music… music…. music… music… music… 

Then suddenly the two burst into song together, Music makes the people come together, music makes the bourgeoisie and the rebel. Music makes the people come together, music makes the Moulin Rouge people revel. 

At this point the woman reached the place where Christian was sitting and moving so close to him that her face was only a few centimetres from his, reached behind and pulled on the paper in his typewriter. She moved back, pulling the typewriter paper out in a long stream. 

Christian stood and was about to voice his protest when a pointed finger, belonging to the male visitor, pushed him back against the desk. 

Don't think of yesterday and I don't look at the clock, he sang in low tones at Christian as the beat continued. 

At this moment the woman interrupted again, I like to boogie woogie. It's like riding on the wind and it never goes away, touches everything I'm in, 

Got to have it every day, the man finished deeply. The woman tugged and the stream of paper ripped, dropping away. She spun, curling the paper around her and Julian began his repeat of music…. 

Finally the woman stopped and dropped the paper, moving back towards the men. 

Hey Miss Estella, she prompted as she came towards Christian, Hey Miss Estella… 

"Christian?" Julian said in forewarning. 

Hey Miss Estella, put the music on, I wanna dance with my baby, and when the music starts, I never wanna stop, it's gonna drive me crazy, the woman continued, then suddenly took Christian's hand and pulled him into the centre of the room to dance. He looked surprised but unable to stop it. They danced for a few moments before the two strangers began their chorus again encouragingly. 

Music makes the people come together, music makes the bourgeoisie and the rebel. Music makes the people come together, music makes the Moulin Rouge people revel. Finally, Christian realised he had little choice; these people weren't likely to leave him alone and, shrugging, Julian and the dancer of the Moulin Rouge finally got him to sing the last verse with them. 

*******************

Estella groaned as she waved a hand for the rehearsal to stop once again. Marcus and Vendetta, her two stars, were on the stage holding hands and attempting to look at each other lovingly, and failing miserably. Estella had known them both for many years, and had the utmost confidence in them. She knew full well that they could do it. But Vendetta was being cold and unresponsive and Marcus had suddenly appropriated a bizarre idea of what it was like to be smitten with a woman. His performance probably had something to do with Vendetta's own dismal approach. 

In the background of the performance, the strange thumps and bangings of the Moulin Rouge's restoration and redecoration continued, but the actors were professionals (supposedly), therefore able to ignore the noise. 

Estella was just about to give up on the whole thing when the doors to the hall creaked open and she turned to see Julian standing there. Her heart stopped and for a moment she thought he'd been unsuccessful as he stood there holding the doors open by the handles only enough so that he stood between them and none other could be seen. Then he threw them open dramatically and Estella relaxed. It was his way, he liked to see the sudden rush of excitement in her eyes. Julian was, of course, rewarded. 

Behind her custodian, and standing next to the dancer that had accompanied him to the apartment across the street, stood a third younger man. Estella, having never met the writer, wasn't certain what she had expected, so she couldn't tell if this was it. He was slightly taller than the other two standing around him, with short dark hair. This Christian, however, did not possess the bright eyes and wondered look she had read into the romance of Moulin Rouge. But perhaps that was reasonable, she thought, because of his loss. 

Striding forward towards the door, Estella exclaimed in a pleased voice, "Julian! My hero." He smiled thankfully and moved out of the way. The dancer moved away to rejoin her company inside. The group immediately swallowed her up in a quiet chorus of giggles in anticipation of the gossip she returned with. 

"You must be the most esteemed Lady Estella," Christian remarked and Estella laughed. 

"Julian," she chided, "I said make it nice, not overdone," but her remark was really directed towards this new person. She scrutinized him, trying to do so without appearing as though she was. He was probably doing the same thing in return. 

"I suppose Julian told you that I plan to reopen the Moulin Rouge; the playhouse, of course. We're hoping to put on some of the most fabulous, beautiful plays here, which is why, obviously, I thought it would be perfectly fitting to begin with a performance of Moulin Rouge." 

Christian walked in, past Estella, and turned a slow circle to look at the hall of the Moulin Rouge. Sudden flashbacks of what it had been began to fill his mind: the sights, the sounds. It was almost too much for him to bear. 

"You have your work cut out for you," he commented neutrally. 

"Mmm," Estella agreed, following his gaze around the room for a silent moment, "I thought that we might have your permission, and that we might… well that you might like to help us. After all, you know the story better than anyone else. The feelings, fascination, you were there." Christian stood silent. He wasn't sure he could do such a thing, even if he wanted to; the memories were searing his senses. 

"We would, as always, be a part of the bohemian ideals," Estella continued, "Truth, beauty, freedom, love." She spoke each word delicately as if it were something special. 

"Ideals of naive fools who don't know what a harsh world it really is," Christian replied coldly and Estella felt as though she had been slapped in the face. Christian, avoiding the woman's eyes but seeing the stunned look on her face, felt some remorse at his statement. But with all the loss and pain he felt, seeing the moment he lost Satine all too clearly once again, he was not about to change what he'd said, even if some part of him didn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. 

"That's disappointing," Estella finally said, without realising her entourage were all silent, breaths held on the stage behind her. They'd been just as surprised by what Christian had said as Estella had been. Some fascinating drama was playing out before their very eyes. The dancers lapped it up excitedly. 

"That doesn't sound like you at all," Estella continued sadly, feeling her hopes come crashing down. Christian wouldn't help them, and by gods they needed it, what with Vendetta and Marcus' performance. Even if the two actors could pull it together, it simply wouldn't feel the same. 

Christian, or perhaps more correctly, the writer of the Moulin Rouge, had become a symbol for her, of all those prementioned bohemian ideals. Truth, beauty, freedom, and love. Especially love. 

"How do you know what `sounds like me'" Christian asked, unyielding, but there was more than a hint of sadness in the way he spoke. 

Estella pursed her lips and considered him for a moment, then she raised a hand in signal to the actors behind her. Marcus and Vendetta immediately caught on and instantly the hall was filled with the words of the most beautiful, loving part of Moulin Rouge. 

An idea had come to her; maybe she could remind Christian, and prove her point at the same time. 

Love is a many splendid thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love. Christian's eyes would have been drawn to the actors on the stage except that Estella was mouthing the words – his words, along with Marcus, the one who was speaking them and who, apparently, was finally getting it right. At least, enough so that Christian felt he could almost reach out and touch the vision he was having of that moment on top of the elephant, with Satine. 

Please, don't start that again Vendetta told Marcus. But all Christian could see was Satine. She was singing to him, and reaching out a hand. Vendetta and Marcus began to bounce the romantic lines of the love scene at each other. 

All you need is love 

A girl has got to eat 

All you need is love 

She'll end up on the street 

All you need is love Estella closed her eyes as she mouthed these last words, then stopped for a moment, watching Christian, as Marcus and Vendetta continued in the background. She was hoping the memories of the song would overtake him in a positive way, so that he'd accept. She could think of nothing better than being able to say he had directed the play she was presenting on opening night – and Spectacular, Spectacular had done so well, it was bound to draw a crowd. 

But Christian only felt the tear in his heart widen as the words of his love song with Satine were played back to him. Whilst the moment seemed real to him, as though he could be with his love, he knew he could not. It was only another painful memory of how far apart they were now. 

Love is just a game 

I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me 

The only way of loving me baby is too pay a lovely fee Estella realised she was losing the unsaid conversation she was having with Christian, the song was not changing his mind and he was beginning to turn to leave. She would have to do something quickly to stop him. 

For the first time, she did something she rarely dared do in front of her actor friends. Estella sang. She added her own voice to that which was happening behind her. It was Marcus' part. 

{Just one night give me just one night} Whilst the words had been sung to Satine in love, Estella was asking Christian to at least give it a try before he turned down her offer of helping bring to life his own story. Temporarily she succeeded in stopping him, as Christian turned around in surprise at the new voice that had been added into the mix. 

There's no way, coz you can't pay Vendetta replied, a little confused that now suddenly two people were singing the other part. 

{In the name, of love, one night in the name of love} Estella was betting Christian didn't put as much faith in his earlier statement as he had claimed. This was, after all, the man who'd written "the greatest thing is just to love, and be loved in return". 

You crazy fool, I won't give in to you For a moment Christian actually considered it, if not just to stop this game Estella was playing with him, then in some bizarre way to, perhaps, feel slightly closer to Satine. Then he shook himself out of it and turned back to the door again, resting his hand on the handle. 

{ Don't, leave me this way} Estella urged, and let Marcus continue on the rest of the sentence without her. Christian hesitated. He didn't want to have to live through this pain again, but he lived it everyday, and a part of him did want to help; the part of him that hadn't given up on love and still wanted to believe. 

I can't survive, without your sweet love, don't leave me this way Marcus finished. Finally Estella had gotten Christian's attention. Slowly he turned, and then added his own voice to that of Vendetta in the background. 

[You'd think the people would have had enough of silly love songs] Fir the first time, Christian actually sang, though his face was still turned towards the door, away from the Estella and her acting group. Estella's smile broadened as she realised her powers of persuasion were finally working – Christian hadn't left yet. 

{I look around me, and I see, it isn't so} she told Christian lightly. 

[{Some people want to fill the world, with silly love songs}] As they sang a small swing began to descend from the ceiling of the hall behind Estella. Christian knew that swing well, because the first time he had seen Satine, she had been sitting on it. And it was still there. For a moment, he was confused, thinking he could still see her there; again, holding on lightly and leaning forward with stars in her eyes. Then the image faded. 

{Well what's wrong with that, I'd like to know, coz here I go, again} At this Estella moved backwards, and, grabbing hold the sides of the swing, began to feel herself lift up towards the ceiling. The swing needed testing anyway – god help her if it needed replacing. 

{Love lifts us up where we belong, where eagles fly, on a mountain high} she sang exultantly, letting the intense feelings of that romantic part of Christians story wash over her. Part of her, probably, was hoping that in reopening the Moulin Rouge, she could immortalise the power of that feeling forever within the atmosphere of the building. 

[Love makes us sad like we are fools, throw our lives away for one happy day] Christian counteracted. It began to occur to him how ridiculous this situation really was. What exactly was he doing here, singing the words of a love song out of context as though it were a perfectly normal thing to do? Someone in this hall had obviously been into the absinthe too much recently, but he couldn't decide if it were him or the rest of the acting group. 

Estella rolled her eyes and directed the next line right at him. 

{We could be heroes, just for one day} In the background Marcus and Vendetta continued, Estella nodding her head slightly along with them but having another personal battle with Christian's eyes. He was the writer of this story! He should want to help, but something was wrong and she could see that, she'd been hoping her friendly nature could change that, or at least make it easier, but now her faith in that was fading. 

You, you will be mean Vendetta told Marcus with a sigh. 

No, he told her, I won't 

And I, I'll drink all the time It was the most powerful moment in the whole tale, Estella thought, how could he not give in. 

{We should be} Marcus and Estella began in chorus, then Estella broke off, changing the last word, {partners} she urged. 

Lovers, Marcus sang, in his act, to Vendetta. 

[We can't do that] Vendetta and Christian disagreed. 

{We should be {partners} lovers and that's a fact.} Then Estella, mid air, lost herself to the music. Standing up on the swing she continued the beauty of the song, no longer able to pay attention to Christian at the door below. 

{Though nothing, will keep us together} 

{We could steal time, just for one day} 

{We could be heroes, forever and ever. We could be heroes, forever and ever. We could be heroes…} 

{Just because I, will always love you} 

{I can't help loving you} Suddenly Estella realised she'd lost sight of Christian and looked below to see only the doors to the Moulin Rouge closing softly shut behind him. 

She grimaced, and slid back down to sit in the swing so far up in the air above the floor of the Moulin Rouge and couldn't help but finish the last line to the beautiful melody that she found so inspiring, {How wonderful life is, now you're in the world.} With a shudder the swing began to lower itself to the ground. 

"Well?" asked Vendetta's high-pitched voice, speaking of the performance by herself and Marcus, "You don't honestly think that was inadequate too, do you?" She pouted.


End file.
